Las flores silvestres que sueñan (The wildflowers who dream)

Fleur Connick

Content Warning: Sexual Abuse

a

Wilting 

My mind is uneasy

stirred and shifting

Flickering lights

signal changing faces

a

The earth beneath your feet rumbles

The birds are out of tune —

uprooted and unclear

a circulation of fear

a

A fool to dream

or perhaps foolish desires?

Woven, stitched deep

into layers just out of reach

a

This is the place

yes, this is the place

Watch it appear

then drip, drip away

a

Rotting 

I ache for another day —

be it an unreachable day

One only in a dream

gone by the time you wake

a

I ache for a deeper sleep —

be it tonight or the next

One that restores my mind

so, I can live

a

I ache for a new body —

be it young or old

One that knows love

deep in its veins

a

I ache for better hands —

be them nimble and lean

Ones that will paint

paint without fear

a

I ache for another day —

one I know will come

A day I will be here

A day I will ache no more

a

Rising

There is an inferno inside of me

I feel it burning

I am no longer afraid

to spit fire

a

Places scorched

from wandering eyes, please

sorry — give us a smile

such natural feminine hues

a

This trespassory

cannot be buried

it can only be burned

Let this blaze

ignite your body

and the ashes

be all that remains

of the unwelcome visitor

a

Tired eyes, hear our cries

deafening and fierce

We are no longer afraid

to spit fire

a

Blooming 

The vase of flowers

on the table are blooming

freshly picked and young

shades of the autumn sun

a

Soft cries tease the sky

I’m silenced by their beauty

delicate and fluid

they dance intuitively

a

You see, today

is only today

and tomorrow, I may not rise

but for now, let’s dream

a

Like the wildflowers

which bloom in the fields

of your imagination

I am only temporary